Fidelius Hilarious
by Intelligensia
Summary: Funny one-shots. Harry fled after the war. When LV finds him, Sev and the Malfoys accompany him when he visits. As always, Harry cannot help but accidently wreck havoc on the fours once-normal lives. Omakes 4 Fidelius by Rumer Hasit.
1. Luna the Lord's Secretary

_This is a series of Omakes for the Story Fidelius by Rumer Hasit but can be read alone. They are no Beta'ed_

* * *

><p>Lord Voldemort swept into his mansion, his minions scattering away at the sight of his frown. When he had first decided to rule the world, he had no idea that it would take more effort to run the country than to conquer it. At least when he was just a terrorist he didn't have to bother with that horror called <em>Paperwork.<em>

He slammed the door to his private quarters behind him, intent on taking a long, relaxing bath before turning in. However, he paused as he passed his study door.

_Click-Clack  
>Click-Click-Click<br>Pause  
>Clack-Clack-Click<em>

What **was** that infuriating noise? Voldemort through open the door.

Sitting at the desk _–his_ desk- was a young blonde, completely focused on the computer screen.

Wait…

Computer screen? How on earth did this chit get a computer to work in such a magical environment as his home? For that matter, how did she get into his home? Who _was_ she?

He only realized that he had asked that last question aloud when she glanced up at him.

"I'm your new secretary." She informed him coolly. "Luna Lovegood."

He choked. "I don't have a secretary!" He exclaimed.

"You do now."

With that closing statement, the girl turned back to her work, ignoring the spluttering Dark Lord behind her.


	2. Draco the Gaiman Fan

Draco Malfoy, now thankfully once again 100% male, sneered lightly at the innocent book lying at his feet. The man on its cover stared darkly out, his face bearing a frightening resemblance to that of the current Dark Lord- barring the lack of fire-red eyes. Draco toed the book over in disgust. His Lordship should murder the damned muggle artist for daring to borrow his seeming!

The door was thrust out slamming into the boys foot. He pulled it back with a decidedly unmasculine yelp. A face peered around the door, identical to Draco's in all but age. Lucius frowned at his son, eyes warning. "Did I not instruct you to bring a text so that we might conduct our conference in peace?" the man's brow tightened.  
>Draco looked away, ashamed. "I apologize, Father. I just realized that I accidently brought that '<em>muggle fantasy book'<em> that Potter pawned off on me instead of any _real_ literature."

The elder Malfoy shut his eyes tightly, then snapped them open. "Draco, you may either sit here silently for the next three hours, read the novel, or floo to Diagon and go shopping with your Mother. You will not make a sound." The man pasted a practiced smile to his face before returning to the diplomatic meeting.

As he left, his son slid down to the ground in a very un-malfoyish manner, though he took noticeable care not to make any undue noise. He lay on his back and searched the ceiling for cracks to count. Finding none, he turned his head to stare at the rug, looking at how the pattern changed from different angles. Growing bored after three minutes, he shut his eyes and tried to get to sleep. He kept distracting himself from beating a rhythm on his leg- then froze when he realized he was tapping to the tune of the jaunty song he'd heard in Potter's muggle bookshop. Stifling a groan, he reached for the book and moved to hurl it violently at the wall. He pulled the throw at the last second and lay the book gingerly on the ground, not wanting to face his Fathers' wrath if he dared make a din.

He glared at the book for a while. At first his gaze was one of blind fury, before slowly turning into a resigned stare. The boy on the cover looked quite like him. He considered suing the publishers for stealing his image, then discarded the idea. It would involve being in contact with muggles. The author was obviously one of some renown, as the name was written larger than the title. Finally, he heaved a quiet sigh and flipped over to the first page of 'The Grave Yard Book'.

Lucius strolled into the small antechamber in a manner akin to a ships cat who knows that all the mice are dead, that the job is done and the Cream protected. In his case, all the rebels were dead, the job was done and his fortunes protected.  
>Or so he thought.<p>

_(Insert dramatic drumroll here)_

This time the door was opened carefully to ensure there was no undignified screech unbecoming of a Malfoy. It had the added benefit of being absoloutly silent.

Which is why the boy sprawled out on the floor did not immediately rush to assume a more stately position. As it was, Lucius got the rare chance to see one of the upper echelons in society lolling on his front, feet in the air and book in his hands like a bikini blonde on the beach.

Despite all efforts to the contrary, all of London was cursed with yet another unbecoming squeal.

In a side note, the SPCA sent a party to ensure that nobody was abusing pigs in South Chelmsford.


	3. Lucius the Reluctant Converted

Warning; Rape scene, undetailed, humorous.

Lucius scowled. There were times, few and far between but there, that he wished the Dark had lost. It was now nigh impossible for him to purchase anything illegal. As the Dark Lord's right hand man, the shadier side of Knockturn went out of their way to avoid him. Normally he did not care one way or another, but today Severus had asked him to acquire an extremely dangerous, and therefore illegal, potions ingredient- a Vortex Claw.

This was why the great Malfoy Lord was currently skulking through Diagon under the effects of Polyjuice. Of course, his looks were still perfect- slightly wavy, shoulder-length chestnut hair, a small but straight nose, firm, not round cheeks, mysterious dark eyes and a perfect mouth. His glamour made him shorter than usual, in order to traverse the Alleys unnoticed.

Unfortunately for Lucius, Malfoy's are unable to go anywhere without gaining attention. Not necessarily the good kind.

Twenty three meters into Knockturn, Lucius was snatched by the shoulder and shoved into a small space hidden between two shops. He landed hard on his ass, an indignant yelp being muffled by a polluted rag. His attacker was foul, emitting a pungent smell that scalded the delicate insides of Lucius' nose.

Lucius scrabbled on the ground for his cane, and the wand it held. He managed to grab it, pointing it towards the grimy silhouette that was languidly aiming a wand at his throat. Spitting the gag out of his mouth he croaked "Expelliarmus".

Immediately, the cane shot out of his hand, shooting straight at the other man. Lucius let his head fall back, cushioned from the rocks by dust, dirt and rodent carcasses. He couldn't believe he'd held the wrong end of the stick!

His opponent cackled. No, not just an evil cackle, a Maniacal Laugh TM. Lucius shivered, shrieking as a heavy weight thumped down on his stomach, almost cracking his spine. The b*****d was now straddling his waist!

For a moment Lucius' thoughts descended into muddled panic. He was going to die! "Get off me, you befouling baboon!" he all but shrieked.

The answer came back husky with lust. "Well, well, well. Aren't you a feisty little thing? Not to worry, I'll take good care of you." The implication of the words was hard to miss.

"What if I don't want to be taken care of?" was all Lucius could think to say back.

"You don't have a choice, little pretty." The tone made 'pretty' sound like 'prey'. Lucius shivered. He didn't know how to get out of this situation. Or did he?

A memory came to him, of Potter lying down then twisting to throw off a giggling, uncertain girl. He could use the same technique. However, Lucius wasn't sure whether his polyjuiced body could change anything. If he had his natural stature, it would be easy. But like this…

Suddenly, clammy lips came crashing down on Lucius. He felt as though a dog were vacuuming his face and replacing his skin with drool. His mind paused, then seemed to zoom in on one particular realization. This realization was displayed on a pedestal in his surface thoughts, ran around in circles at the back of his brain.

_He was about to get raped._

_He was about to get raped._

_He was about to get raped._

Suddenly, that reflection was replaced by another. The next was no more helpful than the last.

_Shit._

_Damn._

_Bollocks._

He was going to die. It was a startling, intrusive thought that Lucius refused to believe. Even as the rapist started to molest his chest, Lucius continued to refuse that ugly idea.

Then abruptly, the situation changed.

Lucius had grown two feet in a painful second. The polyjuice potion had worn off, and in its absence the victim was saved.

He bucked, pushed, rolled and **RAN**.

When he arrived home that night, his lips were pressed in a tight line. Draco took one look at him before turning away. "I guess now isn't the best time to ask to attend Potty's Martial Arts class." He muttered.

"On the contrary" his father drawled. "You are welcome to accompany me should you wish to go."


	4. Thomas the Homosexual Muggle

This was sparked by the idea of the four actually being who they were. It's not quite as humorous as the others. I mean no offence by the ideas I express through it.  
>-Zara<p>

Thomas was hard-pressed to keep from groaning. Luke was his best friend, sure. It was just his little sister that brought out Thomas's homicidal urges. She was annoying, frustrating and whiney. Not to mention she had definite gender issues.

"But Luke! I wanna book! And it's my birthday! You're supposed to be nice to me!"  
>"Fine, Daphne. Get whatever you want."<br>"Thank You, Big Brother!"

Somehow, I think she missed his sarcasm. The little girl bounces into the shop. We move to follow her. She runs out, frowning.

"What's wrong, Daphne?"

Luke may act uncaring, but he's incredible protective of his baby sister. She wriggles out of his hold. He grabs her again and pats her down, making sure she's unharmed.

"You're alright?"  
>"I'm fine! It was just a bookstore."<br>"Then why're you crying?"  
>She sniffs haughtily. "The stupid shopkeeper dinna let me see da gory books! She said I'd get scared! Scared! I dunna get scared! Girlies get scared!"<br>I feel obliged to interrupt "Daphne, dear, you may not have realized, but you are a girl."  
>"No I Not! Suzie girl. Ellie girl. Maggie girl. Me no girl!"<p>

As I said, gender confusion issues. Luke's considering taking her to a child shrink, but doesn't want to subject his poor innocent darling to the curious public.

We make an odd collection. There's Daphne, a whiny gender-confused brat. There's her brother, Luke, who all but raised his sister after their parents were jailed. Jailed for child abuse. He never talks about it. Whenever anything to do with violence or the past comes up, he gets tightlipped and cold. He never sleeps a night through without nightmares. If anyone needs to see a shrink, it's him. He has repressed anger issues. That's part of why he doesn't like being exposed to violence. He feels drawn to fights. I'm not sure, but I think he used to be a gang member.

Then there's Sean. Sean Price. He was born on the street and bred on the street. As soon as anyone learns of that, they look down on him. Thing is, no-one realizes unless they're told. He has impeccable manners and is prone to broody silences. People are more likely to call him an aristocrat than a street rat. He's quite in voice and body- you never know he's there until he wants you to. I guess its part of being brought up on the streets.

Then me. What to say about me? People call me a ladies' man, but I'm gay. Haven't got around to telling my parents that. They're Christian, strongly Christian. I was Christian until I realized I was homosexual. As the two are mutually exclusive, I had to choose which one to be. I chose to be gay and be myself.

That happened when I was twelve. I landed in an orphanage at twelve. I'm an orphan, but my parents are still alive and kicking.

Sometimes I wonder why I chose homosexuality.  
>More often, I wonder why they chose Christianity over their own son.<p>

That's us. The messed-up trio and their tagalong brat.

I can't say I like Daphne much. I don't dislike her because she's a whiney kid with gender issues. No.  
>I hate her because she's had a nice life. She's grown up with a loving, protective brother. I'm jealous of her innocence. I hate her innocence. But her innocence is also the reason I'd protect her to my last breath.<p>

With a resigned sigh, I follow her into the twenty-third bookstore we've visited.  
>I look up at the counter.<br>I see the reason that I chose homosexuality.

Damn, he's HOT!


End file.
